Updrift (25 page)

“We’ll make them, and then we’ll tell you,” Kate assured her.

Everyone congratulated them again, made their goodbyes, and wished them a happy—and private honeymoon—from here on out.

For the third time this week, Peter observed them, making sure he, himself, went unobserved. He’d tracked them in the water, which was not difficult; he knew where the Blake cottage was of course, and the bond between them was so fresh and strong, it was like a cyclone, sucking him in. He limited his spying to the water, when they were swimming, and where he could most easily hide himself. If he needed to, he could get away in a fraction of a second.

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, just as surely as he knew he would.

So, here he was, posing as a ray, or more often, a sea turtle, perfectly reflecting his subterfuge and masking all mental and emotional signals so no one was alerted to his real presence. At least he could laugh at himself, a decorated prince stooping to voyeurism, not that they were having sex in the water, thank goodness. Such evidence of their closeness would have been difficult for him to see. But their bond, so vital and vibrant, was sweetly romantic, so intensely intimate. And it was not something they were intentionally sharing with him. That was what made him a voyeur.

They were irresistible. No Kate, in particular, was irresistible to him, and it was getting worse, seeing her devotion to Gabe. If only she were at his side.

He knew Gabe helped Kate become a stronger swimmer, was building her stamina for longer swims they would take together and preparing her for motherhood to a siren who would want to play in the water. Peter used his prodigious intuitive abilities to detect the life she grew within her, but there was as yet no signal. Whatever child, or children, she carried were masses of still-independent cells, which made now an ideal time for her to train, since oxygen deprivation was not the issue it would become later.

He stayed as close as he could, unable to withdraw from the heady emanation of their attachment, their feelings surrounding him like a balm whose restorative effects he craved all the more strongly as he felt them. He watched and lurked and drank them in like an addict. They seemed unaware—in fact, Peter knew for certain they were—although Gabe had given him a piercing look on two occasions. But he’d eluded true scrutiny and apparently convinced him he was what he appeared to be. He was an extremely capable cloaker.

He smiled at the irony of his situation; he was able to be near her, to intuit her goodness and beauty because he was invisible to her, and perhaps more importantly, her siren mate. Were he not such a flawless cloaker, unmatched really, he would not be able to be by her, which made him crave her all the more. He could almost laugh. He had to tear himself away when they left the water for the afternoon.

He could not fully consider the obvious outcome of his current activities. What
would
he do after all this? The answer was floating just beneath his consciousness, and still he refused to think of it directly. If he left now, discontinued this insanity, he could return to his life of regal inconsequence without hurting anyone. If he kept stalking them, if he continued to follow her and make her feelings his own, he would destroy someone, either her or Gabriel or himself, possibly all three of them. He understood these risks, and yet, each day, he found them and watched, becoming progressively more enthralled with his own fantasy.

He would not think of the natural conclusion to the steps he was taking, but neither could he stop himself from taking them. For now, he committed himself to studying them, their bond, the signature character of their communications, and Gabe’s personality in particular. His voracious intuition supplied him with the information he would need for a very detailed, profoundly complex deception, one he told himself he did not intend to undertake. But he prepared for it nonetheless.

Soon, he would need to watch Gabe on land to fully apprehend his mannerisms and persona. He puzzled over logistics as he swam back to his castle, his preparations the only diversion strong enough to seduce him away from his newfound obsession.

* * * *

Despite their unwillingness to share their honeymoon with anyone, Kate admitted she felt better—as did Gabe—freer to relax and enjoy their time, now their families knew they were together.

“I actually feel more married after our mothers fussed over us,” she told him.

Gabe’s eyes widened. “Meaning you no longer want a ceremony at the library?”

Kate laughed and conceded, “I don’t need a human ceremony. We should file legally, though.” Gabe agreed, and just like that, she considered them wed.

During their third week on Shaddox, they arrived back at the cottage after a day of leisure to find a courier from the palace waiting for them.

“Roger Dimmick,” Gabe acknowledged, extending his hand to the man seated on the front steps. He rose to shake it. “This is my wife, Kate.” After greeting her as well, Roger revealed the reason for his visit.

“We’re witnessing a death at the castle tomorrow for an elderly count. The event will be in the inland lake, and the Loughlins have sent me to invite you to attend.”

“What time are we gathering?”

“Sunrise. May I report your intent to participate?”

Gabe checked with Kate for her approval, and she nodded. “Yes, of course. Please thank Kenna, Peter, and the count’s family for their invitation. They are generous to include us. We’ll be there an hour before dawn.”

After Roger left, Gabe briefed her on the ceremony they’d be attending. “It’s called a sending. The people closest to the one dying will form a circle around him, and the rest will gather around the core group. We’ll probably hang out on the periphery, so we can take you to breathe without disturbing anyone.”

“What will we do? You and Roger used the word,
participate.
What does that mean?”

“I could explain it to you but I know you’ll understand as soon as we’re there. Basically, we all connect with each other to help the dying person let go.” She regarded him quizzically. “You’ll get it right away, I promise,” Gabe assured her.

Early the next morning, they proceeded in the dark to the palace. The cool morning air and surrounding gloom heightened Kate’s senses, breaking through the dreamy lethargy she associated with the sunny, lazy days she’d passed so far on Shaddox. Despite her solemnity, she was excited to experience the rite Gabe and his family had described.

Gabe was also happy for the excursion. “I think you’ll find the event meaningful. It is, as John said, a privilege to witness. But we’ll be emotionally drained afterwards.”

The palace was abnormally busy at that hour, already filled with dozens of people advancing with reverent purpose through the corridors, running errands or exchanging hushed communications in preparation for the upcoming death. The air was electric with import.

One of Kenna’s assistants met them and led them to the offices they’d visited two weeks earlier. There, Kenna herself, along with a small entourage of companions, greeted them.

“We’re so glad you could come. Welcome.” She focused on Kate. “Will this be your first sending?”

“Yes. And thank you for your invitation.” The sirens, in a way she found sneaky, migrated toward her. She smiled at them nervously, and then they
really
drifted too close and gazed at her like she was the main course at Thanksgiving dinner. She clung to Gabe.

They’re unable to resist your good feelings
.
They want to feel more of them
. He kissed her temple then and smiled smugly.
And I should get the credit, here since I’m the one making you so happy
. Kate relaxed and laughed, deciding she was more flattered than afraid.

Kenna interrupted their reverie. “We won’t be in the family’s inner circle but you’ll have an excellent vantage point by us, if you’d like.”

“Yes, please be our guests,” Peter said from behind them, startling everyone except his mother. Kate whipped her head around in his direction, wondering how long he’d been there. Gabe stiffened with irritation.

Peter smiled graciously at him. “My apologies. It’s a habit of mine, nothing more.”

Gabe stared hard in front of him. “I cannot read this guy,” he bit out.

Kenna smiled fondly at her son. “You’ll get used to that. Trust me when I tell you it’s not personal.”

Kate noticed the intent with which Peter watched her and did not even remotely believe his mother. But she was fascinated in spite of her distrust. She recognized his typical siren beauty—the faintly glowing skin and eyes, his lean, strong frame—with frank if unwilling appreciation. Peter seemed encouraged by her attention and immediately engaged her in conversation. Kate registered Gabe’s disapproval, which Peter ignored. As he had during their earlier visit to the palace, he gave Gabe his back and tucked Kate’s hand into his elbow while strolling forward.

“Kate, my dear, you look lovely. Marriage must agree with you.” She did not think Gabe was mollified by this compliment…but she couldn’t withhold her attention from Peter. Her gaze caught on the jeweled hilt of the knife tethered to his waist, which he offered for her examination.

“Every siren has a personalized knife, as you probably know. It’s beautiful, don’t you think?” He brushed the metalwork surrounding a mass of semi-precious jewels with his thumb. “This was forged in Ireland in fifteen-seventy for Queen Elizabeth. I’m told she wore it in her garter.” He imparted this information as if it was scandalous gossip. “Catholic sympathizers opposed to Pope Gregory’s edict to kill her gave it to her in the hopes it would protect her.”

Kate traced one of the serpents coiling around the center ruby with her finger. Kidnapping plots, secret agents, romantic intrigue—this knife had seen it all. Peter explained how his family had come into its possession, a conversation that kept her separate from Gabe. She tried to hide her concern for her husband, who she knew was distressed by Peter’s appropriation of her.

“Shall we find our places?” Kenna suggested, and Kate seized on the opportunity to excuse herself and return to Gabe’s side.

Once near the central lake, the sirens disrobed and entered the water without an ounce of self-consciousness. Kate undressed discreetly to the swimsuit she’d worn under her clothes, which she folded and placed on a bench. No one paid her any attention, even Gabe, who stood by her side but remained absorbed in the emotional center of the morning’s activities. Perhaps because she’d become more sensitive to how sirens perceive the world around them, she also felt the draw of something profound and compelling underway. She studied the elderly Count and his family gathering in the middle of the pool.

Earlier in the week, she’d learned about the history of the central pool from Gabe, so she knew it was larger than the palace itself and extensive enough to hold hundreds of people without becoming crowded. During its construction, workers had excavated the basin to be uniformly fifty feet deep, after which they drilled the entrance and exit tunnels, which provided a continuous flow and filtration of seawater. Over the course of time, all of the ocean life populating the shallow shelves around the island established colonies in the interior bay as well, to the point it was no longer discernible as a manufactured entity. Aside from the presence of several sculptures and the arena, the space appeared identical to the ocean with which it shared water.

Gabe and Kate accompanied the Loughlin group to an elevated tier on the periphery of the gathering. For the first time since they’d been together, Gabe’s attention was not fully on her, and his distraction felt strange to her. As the morning progressed, however, she came to understand it. The sending riveted her, was easily the most fascinating event she’d ever attended or even could have imagined. Knowing as she did how drawn sirens were to emotional intensity, she could only guess at what her husband was experiencing, because she herself could not look away.

At the very center of the sirens gathered, an elderly siren floated and shimmered within the circle of his family, all with joined hands and bowed heads, each inclined toward the count in an attitude of prayer. At some undefined point in time, Kate heard a low chant begin, starting in the inner circle, and growing to include everyone present. As each tier of sirens joined in, they also clasped hands and inclined toward the dying man, just as the family was doing. Kate remained behind Gabe, keeping a hand on him to help her stay submerged and also to better apprehend what was happening. Eventually, she swam alone to the surface and back for air so as not to break Gabe’s concentration.

Gabe was aware of her, but only just. Because of her hand on him, Kate knew how completely absorbed he was in the death, and she understood his and the others’ role in facilitating it. And while she saw how the community helped the dying man, her husband’s intuition gave her a much richer interpretation than her own senses provided. At some point, she closed her eyes to more fully participate.

It was hard work to die, she realized. She was most reminded of Everett’s birth, seeing the effort required to come into and leave this world as commensurate and exactly parallel. Even with the end result intended and supported by everyone present, the process was no easy thing but the community was helping. The dozens and dozens of sirens gathered each projected their individual life force toward him, creating an extraordinary collective energy that flowed to and encompassed all present. For his part, the old siren swam suspended, with his arms open and face upheld toward the surface, a smile breaking through as the chanting strength of those around him filled him and carried him in a forceful eddy of pure love.

After four hours in the pool, with an ebb and flow of nearly unbearable tension emanating from the dying man, his shimmering outline convulsed once, then twice, and then, in a moment of perfect stillness, he exploded into a million particles of white light releasing not only him, but also the will and effort of those around him. The particles of light reminded her of a brilliant burst of fireworks, briefly dancing up and out until their glow faded and then disappeared.